Perhaps the elongated coffins
into which we are laid,
when our flesh can no longer
feed on lifes fullest,
are simply cocoons filled with silk
into which our sleeping forms
are placed with love,
until the day we burst forth,
resurrected with wings
to sail the heavenly skies,
as new creatures
winged and wondrous.
A contest entry
- Sleeps With Butterflies by Utok Bulinaw.
800 points, ended February 6, 2008, 6 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This is ...
a great job not only in writing it but in connecting to the prompt. Very nice.
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Resurrected with wings - I like that phrase. A wonderful poetry on life, death and rebirth. Thank you for entering.
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A sense of new beginnings and hopes I got from this poem.
Loved the title too.
Mari
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